


Tis not so sweet now as it was before

by DrivingStraight



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Eventual Smut, Implied/Referenced Dubious Consent, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-11-20
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:21:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 8,328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26528140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DrivingStraight/pseuds/DrivingStraight
Summary: “Witcher…You’re early this year” he said with a forced smile as his eyes flicked towards the stairs. Geralt could smell the tension roll off him.Geralt arrives to meet Jaskier earlier than usual and doesnt find the bard in the state he left him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 20
Kudos: 277





	1. Music oft hath such a charm To make bad good, and good provoke to harm.

**Author's Note:**

> My first Witcher fic. Im enjoying this ship a lot of late so thought Id dabble. Eventually explicit but a few warm up chapters! Comments are always lovely:) No beta so please excuse typos (I keep checking and try to catch them)

Blessedly, the spring had come early. The snow had retreated, the rivers had thawed to a trickle and two weeks sooner than expected Geralt found himself heading south, making his way to their arranged meeting spot to re-join the bard he had left behind four months previous. 

It had been a long winter. He was glad to be back to the path, that was becoming the way of things the past few years. He’d itch for home as the days grew colder and when the leaves started to turn, so did he. He’d head north like iron filling to a lodestone, spurred on by the thoughts of rest and kinship… Yet he’d not be long settled amongst his brothers when he’d start to miss the noise of the road. Not that the path itself was noisy, in fact for a long time it was mostly a quiet place, even monster slaying didn’t disturb the quiet long. Most of the time it was as still as his mind, and when you’d kept your own company as long as he had, you had little to say to yourself. 

The path however had been noisier of late. It had been filled with chatter, humming and music. Even the nights had lost their stillness, now he listened to the tossing and turning of the nearby body seeking comfort, then to murmurs and sighs of light sleep and finally when he thought silence might just fall… He would listen to soft deep breaths and the thrum of a heartbeat he knew as well as his own. 

His path it seemed was never quiet anymore and it surprised him how used to the noise he’d become. He now found it hard to settle at night in the silence of his room. The thick stones walls making it impossible for any sound to penetrate, it was deafening to him the first few nights. Kaer morhen was not a quiet place per se, his brothers laughed and chatted, called and jeered but in the evenings there would be lulls… They would sit quietly by the fire, Eskel reading, Lambert working on some small project and Vesimir likely retired… The fire would crackle and what Geralt remembered as a comfortable silence felt empty now… He’d mentioned the music on the third night, how he’d grown used to it, like bird song, barely noticed most days and yet if it were to stop… How unsettled he felt without it. Eskel had quirked an eyebrow at that and Lambert had smirked… Geralt had said no more. 

Instead he found himself humming when he was alone, trying to recall the rise and fall of tunes that he knew he’d heard a thousand times and yet he couldn’t capture. He’d pay more attention this year he reasoned and the bard would need little convincing to play for him. Likely he wouldn’t need to ask at all. Jaskier would play at the inn they stayed at in their meeting spot. Garelt would get his fill without having to own to missing the bards music. 

Jaskier was always ahead of Geralt by a few weeks. He’d be settled in like a local celebrity by now, his purse heavy by the time the Witcher arrived to pull him back onto the path with him. 

Ard Carraigh wasn’t far, not by his standards anyway and after only three days on the road he saw it. A ghost of a smile played on his lips, the promise of noisy evening ahead of him. 

The inn wasn’t the most expensive in the town, it was good enough that they needn’t worry about bed bugs and bad enough that they’d always be tolerated. A fine mix for a Witcher and a bard Jaskier liked to say. He commented that it was second best in all respects bar the few weeks a year when it had the best music in town. This was true, the innkeeper gave them a good rate and promised a fine room every spring that Jaskier played. The barroom would be packed with folk happy to spend and tip. The owner of another inn had even tried to poach Jaskier as they left town last year. Offering free room and board when they returned if he’d play for him instead. Jaskier had declined politely and shrugged at Geralt’s raised eyebrow. 

“I like the man. He’s honest and we have an agreement. Anyway he needs the coin more than that poacher” 

He had grinned for days though. The thought of being worthy of stealing bringing him endless joy. 

As Geralt pushed the door of the inn open he was met with the usual smell of split ale and something stewing on the fire. The air was thick with pipe smoke and chatter. The spring may have come early enough to clear the northern roads of snow but it was still early enough in the year that he was glad to be inside again. He’d left Roach with a stable boy along with enough coin to ensure she was brushed down and fed well. He scanned the room for a brightly clothed man holding court but came up empty. It was early yet, this was only a lunch crowd to idle to clear. Jaskier likely wouldn’t bother till people started to settle in for the evening. For a moment he wondered if for once he had beat the bard and he was the first to arrive and his heart sank at the thought of having to wait. As he moved further into the room towards the bar he felt more and more eyes on him, the conversation didn’t stop but it certainly took on a difference cadence as he put him palm down on the bartop. 

The innkeeper turned to serve him and his face fell.

“Witcher…You’re early this year” he said with a forced smile as his eyes flicked towards the stairs. Geralt could smell the tension roll off him.

“hmm” Geralt replied, the man was usually happy enough to see him. Why not this year? 

“Is the bard here?” he asked, pushing a coin onto the bar. He was thirsty after his ride and had thought to take an ale up to whatever room Jaskier was stashed in. He’d hoped to ask for a bath also but judging from this man’s greeting he wondered if he’d even get the ale. 

“Eh yes… Yes… been here a week or so… said you’d be longer still… Expected you next week or two at earliest” The man was rambling now. What was it to him when he arrived or didn’t. He tapped the coin lightly on the bar to get his attention and the man startled into action. Pulling down a mug and filling it. He slid it across to Geralt. 

“What room?” Geralt said taking the mug and fishing for another coin. 

The innkeeper looked nervously towards the stairs

“I’ll send one of the girls up… Let him know you’re here. Get you something to eat while you wait?” 

He was done with this. He’d sniff Jaskier out if the man wasn’t willing to part with the room number. There was only 6 rooms anyway. Easy enough to find the bard that way then play cat and mouse with this man. He slammed the coin down on the bar

“Spare the girls feet. Just send up a bath and a bowl of food, I’ll tell him myself I’ve arrived” 

He turned away from the bar to find most of the eyes in the room were on him. Not an unusual occurrence when you looked like he did, but these looks weren’t awe, or fear or anger. They were worried, tense…like they were holding their breath. He turned to the stairs and started to climb trying to put distance between him and the odd behaviour in the room below. 

Perhaps Jaskier had a lad or lass in his bed he thought. Maybe the folk thought (as some did) that they were lovers, and were afraid that he would pull the bard from the sheets and kill the poor misfortunate bedfellow. He sighed at the thought. It wouldn’t be the first…or even hundredth time that Geralt had found the bard tangled up with some local colour. He’d drop his things, eat downstairs and hope Jaskier didn’t steal his bath when he was finished. People always assumed the worst, what did he care if Jaskier took a tumble? … Not that he particularly enjoyed the sight, nor the smell of someone else on the bards skin… Or seeing the soft look Jaskier took on after he’d been loved…But they weren’t like that… and he wasn’t some jealous cuckold… so the people of Ard Carraigh could rest easy and whoever was beneath the bard could do as they pleased as long as they took the soiled sheets with them on the way out. 

The room wasn’t hard to find. Not because he could smell the man…there was no need, Jaskier left a better trail… The sound of lute music floated down the hall and Geralt’s heart soared. It had been months and the music felt like balm on a burn he hadn’t known he’d had. He stopped outside the door… Jaskier playing meant that he was either still at the wooing stage of his conquest or that the bedding hadn’t been good enough to hold him in the sheets while they cooled. He leaned his forehead to the door and listened. The ghosts of tunes that his mind had provided over the winter had been just that.. ghosts.. pale imitations of the real thing. This was warm and living. 

He could almost picture the bard fingers flying over strings, pulling the music into the world, his own kind of magic. Clever fingers, strong hands… that were probably still warm from another’s body. Geralt chided himself as he shook the thoughts from his head and reached for the door knob and pushed into the room. No point in knocking, if the bard was playing chances were good that no one was too exposed and if he took a small pleasure in interrupting… Well… He had so few pleasures in life, why not indulge.


	2. The man that hath no music in himself...Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for the comments! Again I have no beta reader so feel free to (nicely) point out typos and I will correct. I proof again when Im less tried anyway so it'll clean up! Just wanted to post it now!

The music stopped. Jaskier slapped his hand across the strings and turned awkwardly in his chair clutching the lute to his chest in shock. His fully clothed chest. He was alone. He was alone and almost unrecognisable.

“Geralt” the man sighed relieved, and slumped slightly as if he’d been expecting someone considerably less pleasant to walk through his door unannounced. 

“You’re… I thought…” Jaskier started to stammer but had to stop to swallow thickly and then press his hand to his split lip instead. He fished in his pocket for a handkerchief and pressed it with a small wince to the opening cut. Satisfied he was not bleeding badly, He started to stand stiffly unfolding himself from the chair. Letting Geralt take him in fully. 

He was dressed in a soft undershirt and britches. He lacked his usually put together flare. His hair was lank and unwashed. His shirtsleeves were rolled up revealing a map of bruises up and down his forearms, leading down to a set of skinned knuckles. It would be easier to count the spots of unblemished skin than all the mottled greens, yellows and purples that blotted out the smaller man’s usually healthy tan skin. He was favouring one leg over the other and he wasn’t quite standing straight, maybe a broken rib or two. 

Geralt met Jaskier’s eyes then, one blackened and swollen, and though his lip was split and his jaw was lined with bruises and cuts, the bard was grinning. 

“It’s been a long winter” he said with a twinkle in his eye

“Apparently” Geralt shot back. His throat was tighter than he would have liked. 

“Jaskier. What in the name of Melitele happened?”

Jaskier took a step forward, slow but steady. Geralt didn’t think he was at risk of falling but still had to fight the urge to step forward and take the man’s weight. Jaskier winced slightly with each step and then waved a hand dismissively as he stopped an arm’s length away from the witcher. 

“The usual, I jumped into the wrong bed and didn’t jump out of the right window!” he said, voice rougher than usual.

Geralt had seen Jaskier take a thrashing for putting his…nose where it didn’t belong before, but never this badly. It was usually a cursory stay away from my wife or husband smacking. This was a thorough and vicious beating and by the look of the marks on Jaskier arms one he had tried his best to fight off.

“Who did you fuck Jaskier? This is no normal roughing up”

Jaskier moved past him then and towards the bed, he reached it and pulled his discarded doublet slowly over one arm. He huffed in pain several times before Geralt closed their distance and helped him slip the second arm through. Jaskier turned and smiled tightly up at him and patted his chest in thanks as he moved away. 

“Some noble lad, father wasn’t best pleased to find the boy with a cock in his mouth. He saw fat grandchildren in his future not horny bards. Set a few of his men on me is all” his said keeping his voice as light. 

Geralt was about to reply when the soft knock on the door interrupted him. 

“Come in” he grunted, he dropped his pack and started to pull swords from his back and take his outer armer off. Eventually he sat, eyes still on the bard. 

Two young girls with buckets of steaming water had come through the door, followed by a woman in her early thirties who held another bucket and a board with stew and bread on it. 

Jaskier clapped his hands ‘Ah Janes here. Jane is a God send. Got me all patched up didn’t you?”

Jane smiled slightly. Handed off her bucket to one of the younger girls and set down the board of food on the desk in front of Geralt, then wiped her hands on her apron.

“Get on girls” she said as the two younger ones stopped in the doorway to gawk at Geralt 

“Bath won’t fill itself will it? Cause you’re out of a job if it will!”

The girls hurried away giggling

“Speaking of being out of Job, I must go chat with your charming father Jane. Convince him I’m fit to play and settle up for the last few days”

Jane turned to Jaskier 

“There’s no hurry, Da’s happy to wait a few more days”

Jaskier waved his hands 

“No! Look!” he said holding up his hands dramatically 

“Not a single broken finger! I’ll play tonight. Maybe not a full set. But I will play!” 

He looked then between Geralt and Jane and grinned painfully

“Enjoy your bath. I’ll leave you with Geralt Jane. Try not to be sweet talked by him he is quite the charmer!” 

Geralt rolled his eyes and huffed at that. 

“Jaskier” he said quietly “Call if you need. I’ll hear”

Jaskier’s smile fell a little at that and he nodded before slowly leaving the room. 

Geralt looked at the empty spot where the bard had stood for a moment. Something wasn’t right. He would push the bard more when he returned. In the meantime he turned towards the desk and began to eat. As he did he listened to Jane move lightly around the room and then add something into the bath. Oils or herbs by the smell. He heard the girls feet falling in the hallway and the slosh as they added more buckets of water to the tub before they retreated again. The room fell quiet then but he could feel the older woman’s eyes on the back of his neck. After a few moments of tolerating what might be honest curiosity he decided he'd had enough and best just see what it was she wanted. 

He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth and turned slightly in the chair to look at her. She didn’t looked scared. Tense maybe, like the others had when he had first walked in. Her arms were crossed and her jaw was set hard as if she were stealing herself for something. 

“Do you need something” he asked as politely as he could. He wished she would leave. Whatever hag or botchling was troubling her he didn’t care at the moment. He was trying to discern how old the bruises on Jaskier’s face were, see how much of a head start the lords men had on him. He didn’t want to pick up a job and delay himself more. His confusion was slowly simmering into fury as he sat and let the imagine of the beaten bard sink in. 

“You ought not be angry at him” The woman said. He voice soft but stern. 

Geralt turned fully now and rubbed his hands on his thighs then let them hang clasped between his legs as he took the woman in. She looked defiant. 

“Whys that?” he asked. Who she thought he was angry at he wasn’t sure, the lord might be someone round here. Maybe she was warning him off revenge. 

“He put up a good fight. He should’ve just let them at it and he wouldn’t have come off so bad but he fought like a cat.” She said hotly and then taking a deep breath 

“You ought not add to it any… That’s all…” She finished 

She thought he was angry at Jaskier. His suspicions confirmed that there was more to this than a post coital beating by an irate father. Geralt nodded at the bed. 

“Sit down, Jane”

The woman eyes flashed to the door, thinking.

“I didn’t get the full story. You were there?”

She nodded

“Would you sit for a moment, tell me what happened, how Jaskier got like this”

Jane looked at him intently, as if she were trying to see beyond his mask of a face, whatever she saw there he didn’t know, but slowly she crossed the room and sat on the very edge of the bed and sighed

“He told me not to…Though you’ll have the story from a gossip eventually so may as well have the right of it…You won’t hurt him I don’t think” she said

Geralt thought about this. He had hurt Jaskier in the past. Physically… maybe a few times early on…In other ways later… worse. It’d been a long time since then and things were different now… they were different now. The thought of hurting the bard made bile rise in his throat. Whatever this woman thought they were to each other, or whatever Jaskier had done to bring on these injuries… he would…

“Never” he said firmly

The woman nodded curtly, clearly hearing the honestly behind his words. 

“Three day days ago” she started simply. 

“He’d been here a week or so. Settled in and drawing a crowd by that stage. He said it’d been an exciting year, lots of new songs. Well, he weren’t wrong, had the girls fighting over who got to serve just so they could listen” 

Geralt resisted the urge to smile at that. Jaskier loved the start of spring for this. He was always happy after his stay in Ard Carraigh. Geralt loved the spring for different reasons and often wondered if one year he’d lose them. Maybe Jaskier wouldn’t want to start the path again when Geralt arrived. He’d tell him he’d decided to stay, but he was always ready to pack up and leave when Geralt told him it was time. 

_I’d have nothing to sing my dear Witcher if I were to stay behind…_

He gave the bard his material. It was unlikely he’d be left anytime soon… Maybe one day when his repertoire was well rounded enough. 

“Lord and his men arrived that evening. Weren’t staying here, not good enough for them but had heard that the bard was worth rubbing shoulders with the common folk for. Not that I minded. They paid good money for the best table, drank a lot, good liquor too not just ale. Da was happy. Bard was happy too…” She paused looking as if she said the wrong thing.

“Go on” Geralt prompted

Sniffing she continued

“Lord took a liking to the bard. Bought him a few drinks and when he took a break had him join the table” 

She wiped her hands on her apron, her face was stony.

“Part of the job” she said low and steady 

“Don’t care what anyone says, it is. Same as me and my girls. What kind of customer tips a sour serving girl? A smile for a coin. Aint whoring, just is what it is. Same for the bard, he takes the drink, joins the table and he’s friendly. Smiles and… Flirts.. a bit” she looks up at Geralt to gauge his reaction. 

If this woman thinks that Jaskier’s flirting is news to him she is sorely mistaken. He thinks about what she says though. It’s true, it’s part of his job. Not just when he plays but all the time. Jaskier smooths their way by being pleasant. He smiles, flirts and compliments his and therefore Geralt’s ways through the world. It had been easier since having him by his side. He was welcome more places. He never considered that Jaskier was doing anything risqué, it was just the way he operated. Geralt opened doors with swords… Jaskier with words. 

He shrugged at the woman. Trying to convey that he agreed. It was what it was. 

Jane looks him dead in the eye then.

“I know people. I can spot trouble before it crosses my door. I only hire honest girls, never once misjudged and I have the best stable boy in this town. Were me told my farther you’d be no trouble, just my word Witcher against everything that’s said about your kind and he took it cause he knows… He knows I know”

Geralt nodded. He’d seen the man look to his daughter the first year they’d arrived and seen her nod her consent. It was clear that she was in charge here. 

“That Lord were no good. I could smell it off him when he came in. Greasy and mean. 

Geralt wondered if she meant literally. He imagined her standing by the bar as she often was, surveying her kingdom. He wondered if her nostrils flared when the door opened to this man. 

“Bard has sense. He weren’t interested. Like I said, drank his drinks, smiled, sat awhile but when he’d finished for the night he didn’t stay. He usually hops tables, chats, lets folk buy him drinks…Lord kept grabbing at him, pulling him back, buying drinks… Bard went to his room” 

People said Witchers didn’t have emotions but they were mistaken. They had plenty of emotions. They were just…Behind glass. They could see them perfectly well, they were always just that little bit apart. So they could think clearly. Decide if it was worth it or not. If they wanted to smash the glass. Of course there were people for who the glass was thinner and there were moments where it cracked of its own accord… 

Geralt’s gut was tight, and his hands clenched. Until now he’d held out hope that the bards story was true enough but that seemed unlikely now. It was taking a turn that Geralt didn’t want to follow.  
“Were busy. Hard to keep track of folk and time. Wouldn’t have known only the gal in kitchen said she’d heard an awful crash from above. Sent her up to see what was the fuss. Well… She let out a such a scream… Poor thing. Comes from a nice family… Aint never seen that kind thing’

“What?” Geralt gritted out

Jane met his eyes sadly

“Lord and two of his men had followed him up. Aint hard to find Jaskier's room, follow the music”

He could see these men walking the hallway as he had… listening against the door as he had…It stung.

“Like I said… Lord took a fancy and decided he weren’t to be refused. Had the men rough him up and hold him down when Jaskier told him no at the door. He pulled over the writing desk… That’s what the girl heard fall…” 

she sighed

“It’s a coin flip …If you don’t fight back you might come out better but… in your head… well it can be harder. Took a hell of a beating though, why he thought he could fight off two thugs and a brat with a knife…”

“He didn’t…” Geralt found himself saying

“He didn’t think he could win, but he can't not fight”

Jane nodded. 

“Whatever helps. That’s it Witcher. Called the watch but by the time they got here Lord and his men had left. Girls and I tended the bard and had a healing woman come by the next day. First thing he said was don’t tell Geralt. Thought maybe you were the jealous type… Afraid you’d think he’d brought it on himself”

Geralt shook his head disgusted

“No. I don’t know why, but he knows I would never hurt him”

Jane stood and wiped her hand son her apron

“Well, glad I can still read a man right. He don’t have to play tonight. Try tell him” 

She walked towards the door.

“Jane” Geralt said roughly “Thank you, for telling me… and for speaking up for him’

The woman looked back and nodded

“No one did when it were me” 

Geralt met her eye. She was older than he three decades. He could see that. Much older. She left the room then leaving him alone with a smashed pane of glass and no desire to fix it.


	3. Let music sound while he doth make his choice

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An inbetweeny chapter! Hope you like. Please leave comment!

Ban Ard wasn’t far. A few hours hard ride. He could be there before dark if he moved quickly. He would have to get a fresh horse from the stable, leave Roach to rest. He didn’t want to exhaust her with a hard ride after the way he’d pushed her to get this far. The boy would lend him one, with Roach staying as guarantee of its return. He left his pack, he wouldn’t need it, but strapped his swords across his back one more, the familiar weight grounding him. Using a scrap of paper and Jaskier’s quill and ink he scrawled a short note. When he was finished he resisted the urge to fold it and instead blew gently on the page willing it dry. He was itching with the need to leave. 

He couldn’t stay here now. Couldn’t think straight, bound to do the wrong thing. He needed to clear his head somehow before he spoke to the bard. He’d be back by morning. When the words on page finally lost their shine he folded the note and slipped from the room and down the stairs.

The tavern was much the same. Only now the Brad stood at the bar with his back to Geralt talking to the owner, trying to convince the man he was fit to play no doubt. Geralt looked about and caught the eye of one of the young serving girls. He jerked his head lightly beckoning her over to him where he stood partially hidden at the foot of the stairs. He didn’t want heads in the room to swivel to him once more, he wanted to leave without Jaskier seeing him. 

The girl walked to him, eyes wide with excitement. 

“Drink sir?” she asked eagerly

Geralt smiled in spite of himself. He doubted this was the girl who had disturbed the scene in Jaskier’s room. Jane had said that girl had been shaken, this girl on the other hand looked like trouble, like she was just waiting for an adventure to come her way. He indulge her a bit. 

“Can you be trusted to do me a favour?” he asked, looking about a bit for effect and keeping his voice low

The girl grinned nodding. 

“In ten minutes from now give this message to the bard for me. If he tries to go upstairs before then you must delay him. Understand?”

The girl took the took note and held it to her chest nodding solemnly. 

“Yes sir” she said conspiratorially

‘Good. Now, go ask him something, keep his eyes on you so I can leave without him seeing” 

She nodded, wide eyed. If Jane was right she’d have no trouble faking pleasantries for a few moments. 

He passed her two coins that he was sure would be double her days wages and watched the joy spilling across her face. 

“Split that with the other girl, the one who interrupted the trouble”

The girls face saddened a bit at the mention of the nights events and she nodded again. 

“I will sir, thank you” she said slipping his note and the coins into her apron pocket and turning towards the bar. He watched he walk over to Jaskier and the owner, fix a pretty smile on her face and start chatting animatedly drawing their full attention. 

Good little actor, he could see nothing seemed amiss from where he stood. He walked as quickly and silently as his training and considerable mass would allow and slipped through the door without hearing the bards voice call out to him as it surely would have had he been spotted. 

He walked to the stables and parted with yet more coin in order to secure a good horse on loan. He spared an apologetic look at Roach who seemed to glare at him from where she was tethered. 

He patted her as he led the loaned horse out of the stable. There wasn’t time to sooth her properly he only had a minute or so before Jaskier came to look for him… 

He mounted the horse and pointed it towards the southern road to Ban Ard and urged it into a canter. Putting some distance between him and the bard. Just for now he told himself. He’d be back. 

The odds of finding the men in Ban Ard were Geralt reasoned good. They would have fled to avoid the watch but he doubted they would have been worried enough to go far. Most likely they were waiting till the heat died down a bit and would return to the capital in a few days to finish their business there or maybe they'd just keep heading south when they were sure there was no pursuit. He could be wrong of course, maybe they had no reason to stay nearby and were long gone by now... He might find no sign of the men in the town. Regardless, he’d have had some time to think…He needed time to think. 

The fury that he’d felt when Jane had told him what happened wasn’t surprising. Any decent person would be angry. His friend had been hurt. Worse than hurt, violated. Who wouldn’t be furious? Who wouldn’t want vengeance? It wasn’t the anger that had him running from the bard, Jaskier would expect that. Likely it was why he’d told them not to tell Geralt what had happened. It was the pain. The rocks that filled his stomach, the choked feeling in his throat and the ache in his chest at the thought of what had been done. At what he hadn’t been around to prevent. He shouldn’t feel like this. He should be angry, vengeful... maybe sad but…. This went beyond that. He ached… 

He would kill these men. He would find them if not today, soon. He would kill the men that had hurt his bard and when they were dead he would return to Jaskier and he would have some idea of what to say… If nothing else he could assure him that he would never had to see them again… He need never worry about seeing their faces in a crowded bar, he could rest easy while they rotted. He could tell him that he wouldn’t leave him again. Four months was too long… Too quiet… He’d not winter next year… Or maybe… Maybe Jaskier would…

The town had come into view. Ban Ard was not as big as Ard Crannaigh but it was a buzzing, popular because of its magical element. Maybe he could find a good healer while he was here. Pick up a salve for Jaskier. The streets were filled with people as he moved towards the centre of town. It didn’t take much enquiry to be pointed in the direction of the best inn. Somewhere he’d look out of place… Somewhere he was likely to find men with more coin than decency…


	4. Though you can fret me, yet you cannot play upon me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of past non con. Sorry for the delay. Next chap to follow soon.

The plan came together so easily that Geralt started to worry. The fates so rarely shined on him that he was suspicious, but perhaps this time considering Jaskier’s involvement they would give him a break. He pushed open the door to the Lions Head and felt the eyes fall upon him. He wasn’t the usual cliental that much was sure. 

Walking to the bar he accessed the owner. He was weary Geralt decided but not unreasonable. Perhaps he knew better than to try to kick a Witcher it of his inn

“Room Sir?” the man asked when Geralt rested his elbow on the length of shining wood. He shook his head in answer

“I won’t trouble you that long” he replied and noted the visible relief in the man’s face “I’m waiting for someone, a drink while I do would be appreciated” he finished. 

The innkeeper poured him an ale, then walked from behind his bar to check on his patrons. Probably trying to assure them that there wasn’t any trouble...Little did he know. 

Geralt scanned the room. It was the table closest him that caught his interest. Three of them, a Nobel and his two men. Not the only ones here by any means but there was something about this group… He remembered what Jane had said…The lord had looked mean. This man was laughing, and yet still he had a cruel look to him. 

Geralt’s gut clenched as he stopped himself from pulling the man across his table and slitting his throat there and then. He had a plan he reminded himself. A good plan at that. Monster killing rarely allowed for him to use his cunning something that he was not unskilled at. Besides, he did not want to have to avoid two towns so close to Kear Morhen if possible. Both were regular stops for his brothers and him. He didn’t want a warrant out for him murdering some lord in a bar brawl. No his plan was good and he would stick to it. Plus, it would keep his mind busy. Jaskier was playing by now no doubt. He’d be angry…Geralt hoped he was angry and not upset. His note had seemed more than enough at the time but in hindsight… 

Jarkier, 

Have the bath. Don’t play tonight. Rest. 

Geralt

He could see the bard at best flying into a temper at being left behind but at worst he might think Geralt had abandoned him after hearing the story from Jane. He wouldn’t be long finding out that she had filled him in… He shook his head. Focus. 

The owner was walking back towards the bar and Gerlat took the chance, raising his voice more than usual he asked 

“Will you have music tonight?”

The man stopped momentarily shocked at the casual conversation the mountain of a witcher was striking up 

“Oh… No sir… Not till the day after tomorrow. I have a lass that sings and her brother that plays lute for her”

Geralt nodded 

“Pity, I heard an excellent bard play in Ard Carraigh last night” he carried on 

For all the world he was looking at the owner of the inn and yet Geralt's sense were trained on the table of men behind him. The table of men who’s ears had practically perked up at his last

“Oh? Good was he?”

Geralt thanked his stars that this barman was like most, happy to entertain small talk with those drinking his ale 

“Best I’ve heard, had the place full”

Geralt watched as the three men looked at each other and then

“I say Witcher” 

Too easy. 

It was the lord himself. Looking like the cat that got the fucking cream as he waved his hand above his head in a beckoning fashion. The bile was in his throat as Geralt forced himself not to react

“M’lord? He said nodded with deference. 

He’d liked that. That a Witcher knew his place.

“This Bard, where did you say you saw him?”

Geralt took a step towards the table so he could lower his voice 

“Ard Carraigh. If you like music M’lord he’s worth the trip”

“He is at that…” muttered one of the lord’s men. The first to die thought Geralt. 

The other man sniggered securing himself close second, though both stilled at their lords glare and Geralt felt his fingernails dig deeper into his palm 

“I do witcher” The lord replied over his men “I am in fact a great lover of music. Tell me what does this Bard look like? I might have seen him play before”

The plan. Thought Geralt. The plan 

“Well my Lord if you’d seen him lately you’d know, he’s hard to miss”

The Lord smiled serenely and asked as if genuinely curious 

“And whys that”

The plan. The plan. The plan.

“Took a tumble down a flight of stairs so he said. Black and blue all over. Only sang for a short while last night till the girl told him to rest, but even the few songs he sang were above any of the bards I’ve heard”

The men were staring hard at their table now trying Geralt supposed to keep composure until their master gave them leave to bark again. 

“Well….” The lord replied eyes shining with mirth “I may well have to head that way and see what the fuss is about… My thanks Witcher for the recommendation” 

Geralt forced himself to nod and stepped back to the bar. He drained his drink and searched in his pocket for some coin when he heard the mans voice again

“My treat Witcher. For the tip” 

Geralt smiled tightly and caught the eye of the owner once more 

“I’ve waited long enough, If a man named Tigby comes looking for me tell him I have rooms at the Beggers Pocket” He said and he made to leave.


	5. Let music sound while he doth make his choice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> comments are very much appreciated!

The Beggers Pocket was the kind of establishment Geralt was used to. A rough but not dangerous crowd made up the patrons and the room was as basic as it was cheap. Not that Geralt cared, the room was only for show. 

He ordered some food to his room and gave the woman behind the bar the same story. Waiting for someone. If they asked tell them where his room was. He closed the door behind him and set to work. He stripped out of his armour and dropped it on the straight back wooden chair that stood in front of a small table. The table held a bowl and jug of cold water. Besides that, the bed and the chamber pot the room was bare. He poured some water into the bowl and washed his face and hands. He pulled the ties of his shirt loose and took off his boots. For all the world he was a man who had settled for the evening. He started to take an inventory of his supplies. He pulled his swords from their sheaths and looked at them carefully. He had nothing with him to clean them but luckily he had done so thoroughly before he left the Kear Morhen and had no cause to use them between. A dagger he kept in his boot was in equally good condition and three small vials of potions rounded out what he had to hand. He didn’t think he would need the potions but he never let himself be without them. Just in case. 

The knock at the door pulled him back into the moment, he picked up the weapons and lay them down carelessly on the small table and pocketed the vials. He cast his eyes over the room, the stage set. 

A teenager outside his door. Looking like a lamb to the slaughter. He held a plate of cold cuts, bread and cheese. 

“Mother said to tell you there was nothing hot but the breads fresh” he stammered not meeting Geralts eye. 

“Not a problem” Geralt answered, he pushed the door wide open to let the boy see as much of it as possible. Took the plate, turned and sat it down on the bed. The boy made to leave when Geralt stopped him in his tracks

“you rise early boy?” 

The teen looked startled. He swallowed before answering 

“y.. yes… with the sun sir”

Geralt crossed his arms and nodded

“I’ve to head further south early. A coin if you wake me at dawn?”  
The boy was still nervous but excitement at the thought of the money crept into his eyes.

“Yes sir” he said more eager now. 

“Do you look after the horses too?” Geralt asked then

The boy nodded again 

“Good. Another coin if you have mine fed and ready to leave not long after. Do we have a deal?”

The boy bobbed his head again “Yes sir…only…” he licked his lips nervously

Narrowed his eyes “only what boy?” 

The teen steeled himself and then let out his next sentence in a rush 

“Can you not tell my father sir? He’ll take the money from me and I’ve…”

Geralt looked at him expectantly 

“You’ve…?”

Curious now at what this lad would want the coin for 

“I’ve a girl sir, want to marry her but my father doesn’t want me leaving… I try to save and mother helps but he takes whatever he can…” he finished shrugging. 

Geralt nodded. 

“I’ll say nothing. Who am I to stand in the way of love?” 

The boy grinned then 

“Thank you sir. I’ll wake you sir and your horse will be ready” 

With that the boy turned and head back down to the rowdy crowd below. 

Geralt closed the door. He smiled despite himself. The boys grand plan had touched him. He wondered… If his life had been different would he had saved money to run away with a lass from town. Would that have been the big adventure of his life?

He put his swords back in their sheaths. Stowed the dagger in his boot and sat on the bed, his back to the head board he ate about half the plates worth of food and left the rest on the floor.

Now all he had to do was wait. He leaned his head back and let himself sink into meditation. 

His knife slide easily into the crack of the window. He felt it touch the metal latch and slowly pushed it aside. The hallway was dark. No reason it should be lit this late at night. The inn was silent, at least to a human ear. With his senses he could hear the rise and fall of a dozen breaths. All even with sleep and if the fates kept smiling on him only those on his list would lose sleep tonight. There was no need for anyone else to wake. Geralt pulled himself through the window and dropped silently to the floor. He knew what he was looking for. Or rather smelling for. 

The lord’s cologne. Musky, like sandalwood with a high note of citrus, it was expensive, and distinctive. Even a non-human would remember it. It wasn’t unpleasant and out context Geralt might even have appreciated the smell on a lover… It was that thought, the thought of the man’s cologne filling Jaskier’s nose as he was pushed over the desk…the idea that he might someday catch the scent again… It pushed Geralt onwards. A deep breath and he knew where he was would find the man. 

The lock on the lord’s door put up as little resistance as the window latch. In the inns defence Geralt doubted if they had much cause to anticipated night time assassinations. Perhaps after tonight they would consider upgrading their locks and latches. 

Shirtless, the man lay on his back fast asleep. His blankets wrapped around his waist as if he has tossed and turned at first but he was still now in the deepest part of sleep. The embers of the fire threw some light into the room and kept away the early spring chill. Geralt stood and took him in properly. He was slim, youngish, dirty blond and undeniably attractive. 

Geralt had seen Jaskier go to bed with all sorts of men and women. At times he picked the prettiest one in the room, other times someone quite plain or downright odd looking would catch his eye, as if he could see something others couldn’t… that’s what had warned Jaskier off this man. He saw something he didn’t like beyond the good looks. 

There was those who would argue that attacking a man in his bed, unarmed and unaware was dishonourable. They would say he ought to challenge the man, let him defend himself. Unfortunately for this man Geralt had no such reservations. Geralt didn’t throw monsters a sword and tell them to meet him in the square at noon, he had no intention of giving a rapist such an advantage. If the man was unconcerned with the preferences of others Geralt certainly wasn’t concerned with his. 

His hand clamped firmly over the man’s mouth at the same times as his dagger dug under his chin. The man’s eyes flew open and his body jerked a few times in panic. 

“Shhhh m’lord…Fussing won’t help”

The man’s eyes focuses now and Geralt put more weight on his left arm to hold the man firm against the bed as his bucking increased. Geralt pushed the dagger just enough to draw a drop of blood and still the flailing man. 

“Good. Now, if you stay quiet and calm I’ll let you have a few words, if you try to fight or shout for help I will slit your throat before you have a chance to draw the breath for either… Understand?”

The lord nodded slowly, and Geralt slowly moved his gloved hand away from the man’s mouth, but only just. If the idiot decided to take his chances he wanted to be able to clamp down quickly. He shouldn’t really give the man the chance, it was childish…He wanted him to know why… he wanted to let him know he touched the wrong man and it had led him to this moment. 

The man’s eyes flicked back and forth in panic, Trying to see if Geralt was alone perhaps. He licked his lips and swallowed. Drawing a shaking breath. Geralt raised his one eyebrow in reminder of the warning and then began quietly

“One town back you decided to help yourself to a pretty bard. The one you laughed about at lunch… You had your men hold him down while you took what wasn’t offered’

The man looked confused

“B..bard?…This is about Jaskier?” 

Geralt practically growled at that 

“Say his name again and I will cut out your tongue’ he hissed close to the man’s face

The man winced and his mouth snapped shut

‘Now my lord, answer honestly or your tongue will be shortly followed by your manhood’ 

The lord man an involuntary whine of protestation. 

“Did you rape him?’

The man looked pained as he whispered

“I was drunk…”

Geralt dug the knife into his throat sharply. The tip of the knife was now a centimetre deeper in the man. The only thing stopping a trickle of blood from ruining the man’s bedsheets was the blade itself. 

‘Yes!” The man spat out “I did”

Geralt closed his eyes. He had thought as much. He had hoped he hadn’t gotten that far that maybe the bargirl had arrived before … He took deep breaths and swallowed down the rage that was creeping up from his chest. There would be time and he had more answers to get. 

‘The men with you. Are they the ones who held him down?”

“Yes” 

‘Had you not been interrupted… They would have had their turn?’

The man nodded. He’d lost his voice apparently. 

Geralt nodded back. The next question surprised him. He hadn’t planned on asking it. 

“Was this the first time?’

The man didn’t reply. His body had gone from tightly coiled to limp. His eyes had lost the frightened animal look and he looked more resigned. That was all the answer Geralt needed. An innocent man wouldn’t need prompting. The man looked up into Geralt’s eyes then. A last plea. 

‘I… I have money….My bags’ the man whispered. His voice barely more than an exhale. 

‘Hmm…’ Geralt replied as if considering the offer

‘I’m afraid it’s not your money I’m after. Though I may help myself on my way out’

The lord looked stricken 

‘Wh…what do you want?’ 

Geralt almost felt sorry for the man. He was shaking. He eyes were wide and tears streaked his face. Almost.

‘What if it was you I wanted?’ Geralt said lowly ‘What if I were to help myself like you did? Turn you over, have my way and let you scream your protests into the pillow?’

The man’s hands flew reflexively to Geralt’s wrist in protestation, pushing pathetically against the brick wall of a man. 

‘P…Please…. I… You can’t…’

Geralt rolled his eyes. 

“You’re right’ he agreed as he pushed the knife home. 

“I can’t”


End file.
